Lone Savior
by dancingknives
Summary: Future songfic...Superman reflects on his past life, and his current status as the savior he wonders what he really is, and whether he's really accomplished anything since Smallville.song is Superman [It's Not Easy] by Five for Fighting....great and beaut


_I can't stand to fly_

_I'm not that naive_

_I'm just out to find_

_The better part of me_

I was always told the whole world would one day look up to me. And I suppose, as I gaze down below the clouds, that's come true. Everyone calls out to me, the victims, the poor, the needy, the little girl whose cat is stuck on some unreachable branch in the lofts of a wondrous oak tree. I can't afford weakness in this, I can't I can't. But in some ways, I've never ever grown up, I'm still Clark Kent; I find it a miracle so many people think I'm Superman. I was always that naïve little boy, flying through the clouds, saving the world. But somewhere along the way, I've lost **myself**.

_I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane_

_More than some pretty face beside a train_

_It's not easy to be me _

I'm an idol. Everyone looks up to the sky when trouble is near, hoping I'd soar through the skies and save them from themselves. This world is slowly crumbling to pieces, and I only wish I could float above it all. Never look down at the suffering, at the pain, and the hell that this planet is slowly **becoming**.

_Wish that I could cry_

_Fall upon my knees_

_Find a way to lie_

_About a home I'll never see _

I've seen so much, I've done so much. I can hardly sleep at night, alone and cold in my own thoughts. What have I become? Am I really that famous superhero? Am I just another man? Trying to get by… I've always felt this lost. It seems I'm only a superficial savior, there's nothing more to me than saving lives is there? I have no one in my life. I reflect with bitter irony that my best friend is now my worst enemy. As many people as there are who praise me, there are just as many trying to destroy me. I want to be **normal**….

_It may sound absurd, but don't be naive_

_Even Heroes have the right to bleed_

_I may be disturbed, but won't you concede_

_Even Heroes have the right to dream_

_It's not easy to be me _

I hope and I dream of so many things. I want to see my home world Krypton in all its glory. I want to be with my own people, so that maybe I won't be hated, feared, or worse yet, idolized, for my gifts. No one realizes, in some ways, I envy them. They're all so comforted at night; when danger threatens, Superman is here. What if I weren't? Am I such a constant in their lives that everyone takes me for granted? People only want to be saved **themselves**.

_Up, up and away, away from me_

_It's all right, you can all sleep sound tonight_

_I'm not crazy, or anything: _

In my moments of weakness, who will still look on me with adoration? Who won't kick me when I'm down? When I'm under, the whole world forgets who their savior once was. They point to me as an abomination; I am hunted, humiliated, and shamed. But they can't hurt me, they can't touch me. That is my **curse**.

_I can't stand to fly_

_I'm not that naive_

_Men weren't meant to ride_

_With clouds between their knees _

People are fickle, I'm a savior and a devil, all in one breath. What I wouldn't give to be Clark Kent, and just Clark Kent. A humble man from a small town, with normal friends, with a happy life. Perhaps I'd be married, have children, hear voices besides my own when I lie awake at night. I think that, in this world, I'm the cursed one, to bear these gifts alone…**untouchable**.

_I'm only a man in a silly red sheet_

_Digging for kryptonite on this one way street_

_Only a man in a funny red sheet_

_Looking for special things inside of me _

Holidays are a great time of year; only double duty for me. I want one moment of peace and quite. One minute not on patrol. I want to look up at the stars like I used to; lie underneath their glory and drink in their delights. I want to gaze up at the moon; ask Her questions. What is the secret to this universe? What were we all meant to be? And She'd tell me my destiny; I was born a Messiah. And then I'd laugh, and tell her that I was no such being. I can't save everyone, and I can barely save myself sometimes. I'm not perfect, you see. Never have been a model of perfection, though I suppose I do try hard. All my attempts—futile. All I am, is an empty drone…I am the **redeemer**.

_**It's not easy to be me.**_


End file.
